I'm Fine
by Coffee Monsta
Summary: Logan is being bullied in school. He's so depressed that he just wants to end everything. He won't ask Hesh or Elias for help because he doesn't want to bug them. He wears hoodies to hide the bruises and cuts. When they ask if he's okay, the answer is always the same- "I'm fine."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi! I know I haven't updated Shattered in a while, but I'm currently trying to get inspired enough to start working on the next chapter... Sorry. I just updated Time Will Tell, though, so I AM doing something!**

 **Anyways, I got this idea because Logan has really been on my mind lately (I have no idea why). Enjoy!**

 **VERY IMPORTANT WARNING: This fic includes bullying, severe depression, an eating disorder (kind of...), SUICIDAL STUFF BUT HE DOESN'T KILL HIMSELF, and insomnia.**

 **Disclaimer- I don't own the Call of Duty Characters, just my OC (Evan Odom).**

* * *

 **Logan P.O.V**

I sighed as I opened my eyes. I had been trying for hours, but I just couldn't sleep. Not that being unable to sleep was unusual for me. My insomnia was really bad and most of the time, I couldn't sleep. Hesh always worried, but every time he asked, I told him I was fine.

I really don't want to go to school. Everyone hates me. I have no friends, and I hardly ever see Hesh. There's this one really buff kid named Evan Odom who's so tall he towers over everyone else in my grade, and most of the people above it. I've never been considered tall, and therefore I'm a bit below his shoulder when I stand next to him. Yeah... that really isn't a great place to be, because I'm positive that Evan hasn't ever heard the word "deodorant" in his life.

Anyways, he has jet black hair and cold dark eyes. And for some unspecified reason, he hates me more than everyone else. I have six (out of eight) classes with him, and he makes it his priority to throw my books on the floor, slam me into every available surface, or trip me whenever possible. I have bruises all over my back because lately he seems to enjoy shoving me into walls and lockers more than usual.

I would stand up to him if he wasn't such a giant. But it's not like standing up to him would change anything. Everyone else would still hate me. Sooner or later, a new bully would come along. With my luck, they'd be worse than Evan. So there's really no point in standing up to Evan anyways.

Hesh is busy enough with his own life and I don't want to bug him with my problems, so I just endure it. I go to school, do my work, come home, and try not to get killed while doing said things. It's not an easy job, but I get it done. As of now, I'm passing 10th grade, so that's a plus.

I sighed and climbed out of bed, wincing as the patchwork of bruises covering my back protested against my movement. I slowly got dressed, doing my best not to irritate my back more than I already had. I didn't much care what I looked like for school- everyone would hate me no matter what I looked like.

But because I didn't want Hesh to worry about me, I put on a clean shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of black skinny jeans. I tried to fix my hair as well, but as usual, it wouldn't cooperate. It was a fluffy, unruly mass of blonde curls. The only time it laid flat was when I took the time to straighten it, but I didn't have time today.

I pulled on my shoes and grabbed my backpack, mentally preparing myself to leave my room. My room was the only place I truly felt safe, and it was hard for me to make myself leave it every morning. But I had to go to school. Dad may have been at work, but no matter how busy he was, he'd still call me and ask why I wasn't in school today if I don't go.

I opened my door to find Hesh standing there, his hand poised to knock on the door. I jumped, having not expected him to be standing there like that.

"Oh my god, Logan, you scared me! I didn't expect you to open the door." He laughed, smiling warmly at me.

I grunted in reply.

His warm smile melted away and was replaced with a frown as he sensed my sour mood.

"Hey, what's wrong? You look upset... And did you get any sleep? You have dark circles..." He observed, grabbing my chin and tilting my head up so he could see better.

I flinched and stepped back, mumbling, "I'm fine, Hesh. Move out of the way, we're gonna miss the bus."

He was definitely concerned, but he let it go... for now. We locked the house and got on the bus- a.k.a the ferry to hell. Our bus ride wasn't long, only about 15 minutes, as we were one of the last stops on the route. We arrived at school, and Hesh hugged me and said goodbye. We went our separate ways.

Ultimately, that wasn't a good idea. No, screw that, it was a terrible idea.

As soon as I rounded the corner, I ran right into Evan Odom.

He glared down at me and growled, "What the fuck are you doing, Walker?!"

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" I stammered, but before I could say anything else, he grabbed my arm and dragged me to the nearest bathroom.

Sadly, the nearest bathroom was ten feet away and the nearest teacher was across campus, in the cafeteria. I dug my heels into the ground and tried to get away from him, but all that earned me was a harsh slap to the face.

Tears burned in my eyes, but I didn't let them fall.

He violently slammed me into a bathroom stall and I let out a strangled cry. My back was on fire. The few students who happened to be in the bathroom when we came in promptly left without a word.

I was alone with Evan.

"Listen here, dumbass." He snarled, grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking my head up to face him. "You are a stupid, worthless little bitch who no one cares about. You know that right? And I'm well aware that you're too stupid to figure this out, but I _hate_ you! So why, pray tell, did you walk into me just now?! Do you want me to fucking kill you?!"

I tried to shake my head because I couldn't get enough oxygen into my lungs to form words, but he tightened his grip and roughly slammed my head back against the stall.

Pain blossomed in the back of my head and spread down throughout my back. I started to scream, desperately wanting, _needing_ someone to hear me.

He put his hand over my mouth and said, "Shut up before I break your damn arm."

I immediately stopped, but only because I knew I wouldn't be able to hide a broken arm from Hesh or dad. That would be impossible.

Evan laughed bitterly and said, "Maybe you aren't completely stupid."

I squirmed and gave a muffled "Mmmph."

"I would love to stay here and teach you some manners..." He sighed, punching me hard in the stomach for emphasis.

I didn't even have the energy to scream anymore. I was too busy having a panic attack. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. Everything hurt.

"But sadly, I have to go. Don't worry though, I'll see you later."

He grinned menacingly and released me, leaving the bathroom and slamming the door behind himself.

I slumped to the floor, curled into a ball, and cried.

* * *

 **A/N: This is just the first chapter, so the others will most likely be longer. Next chapter is gonna be interesting and I'll try to update ASAP! Please tell me what you thought of this! I love getting feedback!**

 **Thanks for reading! Byeee! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi! Omg, I got four reviews on chapter one! Yay! I'm so happy! Huge thank you to lilymn47, JustaBunchofNonsense, Hisokaminori, and vendo tacos! Your reviews made me smile! :) Also thank you to everyone who has favorited/followed this story so far! I appreciate it so much!**

 **WARNING: There is CUTTING in this chapter! Not too much (well... description wise, anyways), but I still felt like I should warn you guys (mostly so I don't get yelled at, lol).**

 _ **Logan's thoughts are in italics!**_

 **Enjoy chapter 2!**

* * *

 **After School...**

 **Logan P.O.V**

I sighed as I limped into my room and slumped down onto my bed. My day had been absolutely terrible.

A while after the... incident this morning, I had (very) reluctantly gotten up and gone to class. I didn't want dad to get a phone call saying I had missed classes. I had only missed about an hour's worth of history, and when I got there I just told Mr. Frazier that I didn't feel well. He asked if I needed to go to the clinic, but I had refused in fear of them calling dad to pick me up.

Sadly, I had first through sixth period with Evan Odom. My fourth period classroom was upstairs, and halfway up the staircase, Evan shoved me back down it. I landed wrong on my right foot and twisted my ankle (owww!), so I had limped everywhere for the rest of the day.

Hesh hasn't noticed yet- mostly because I had rushed inside and locked myself in my room. But I knew damn well he was gonna notice later. I couldn't stay in my room all day. I was never really hungry anymore, but he always made me come out and sit with him anyways. He tries to encourage me to eat, but I've been so stressed out lately that eating just makes me nauseous.

Anyways, the rest of my day was the usual routine- name calling, being shoved into walls and lockers, given notes that told me to kill myself.

 _...Believe me, I've thought of it._

I rolled up my sleeve and looked at the thin scars that marred the skin there. Some of them were months old, while others were made just a few days ago.

Dad had given me a really sharp pocket knife a few years ago, and every once in a while I'd cut myself. Well, now I did it a lot more often than I had in the past. I cut myself almost every night now. I'm not sure why, but it makes me feel better. It helps relieve my stress (and I had a ton of it) when nothing else does.

Just thinking about it made me want to do it. Looking at my cuts made me want to make more of them. I sat up as carefully as I could manage, wincing when my efforts didn't help anything.

My ankle was still throbbing with pain- probably because I had walked on it a bunch after I hurt it. So I tried not to put any weight on it as I hobbled over to my dresser. I put a hand on it to steady myself and opened the top drawer, reaching all the way to the back and pulling my knife out.

I had just sat down and opened it when Hesh knocked on my door. I jumped about six feet off the floor- the movement sending waves of pain throughout my body. I bit my lip so hard it bled to hold back a cry.

"Logan? You okay in there?" Hesh asked.

I could hear the worry in his voice. It made me feel guilty for hiding all of this from him... But it's not like he could help anyways.

"I'm fine..." I replied, somewhat hoarsely.

Even with a door between us, I could tell he wasn't convinced.

"You sure? You sound sick..." He pressed.

"Yeah, Hesh. I'm fine."

There was a beat of silence, then a sigh.

"...Alright. I made dinner, so come out here and eat."

The thought of eating made me want to puke.

"Okay..." I replied quietly.

I listened as his footsteps receded, breathing out a sigh of relief when they were gone. If my door hadn't been locked, I would've been caught.

 _That was so close..._

I quickly put my knife away and unlocked my door, making sure my sleeves were pulled down over my wrists before leaving the room. I didn't even bother trying to hide my limp as I carefully made my way to the table.

As expected, Hesh noticed almost immediately.

He frowned and said, "Logan, what's wrong with your foot?"

"I twisted my ankle on my way to class." I said, pushing my chicken Alfredo around the plate with my fork.

He stopped eating and raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"How did you manage to do that?"

I felt like I was going to be sick.

"My foot... landed wrong as I was going up the stairs." I mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.

He gave me a hard look, as if he _knew_ I was lying.

It made me want to die.

After a few moments, he asked, "When did this happen?"

"On my way to fourth period."

"So you've been walking around with a hurt leg all day? Damn it, Logan, you probably made it worse. You should've gone to the nurse and called dad to pick you up..." He scowled, walking over to the freezer and pulling the ice tray out.

"I'm sorry..." I said quietly, staring down at the floor.

"Just..." He sighed, dumping a bunch of ice into a bag, "Eat your dinner and keep this ice on your leg. And try to keep it elevated. And don't-"

"I know, I know. Don't put any weight on it." I interrupted, reluctantly eating a bit of food.

"Mhmmm, that's right. Here, let me see." He said, setting the bag of ice on the table and patting his leg.

I wordlessly put my foot in his lap, watching as he carefully removed my sock and examined my ankle. He poked and prodded in a few places, asking where it hurt most and then comparing it to my other foot.

After several minutes of this, he came to a conclusion.

"It looks like you've just badly sprained it. You can tell from the bruising and swelling." He said, pointing them out.

I nodded and he continued.

"It's definitely not broken- all the bones are in the proper position and you don't seem to be in too much pain. I'll wrap it, then I want you to keep it elevated and iced. The swelling should go down after a while. But I don't want you walking on it, so you're staying home tomorrow."

I was so relieved I wanted to cry.

"O-okay... Is dad coming home tonight?"

"He said he was, but I get the feeling he'll be late." He explained, carefully wrapping a bandage around my leg.

I nodded. That was nothing new. Dad almost never came home on time- at first it had been disappointing, but now we were both used to it. I tried to finish my dinner, but I wasn't really hungry. I hurt all over. I was tired and I just wanted to sleep.

"Alright," Hesh said, placing my foot on the chair next to me and setting the bag of ice on top of it. "All done. But for God's sake, try not to walk on it."

"Okay..." I replied quietly.

I had only eaten a bit over half of my plate. Hesh glanced at it and sighed, but didn't complain. I guess he was glad I had eaten at all tonight.

After dinner was over, I said goodnight to Hesh and hobbled back to my room. I lowered myself onto the floor by my dresser and once again pulled my knife from the top drawer. I opened it and tugged my sleeves down.

I made lots of cuts that night.

Blood rushed to the surface and escaped, rolling down my arms in small streams. I cut while thinking about Evan- about how he had hurt me and said all those hateful (...yet true) things to me.

I imagined all my stress and worries leaving me, being drained from my body along with the blood that flowed from the cuts.

I sat there for a long time, cutting and thinking, thinking and cutting.

* * *

 **A/N: I know nothing much happened in this chapter, but trust me when I say- a TON of things are happening in chapter three. So... we'll call this chapter the calm before the storm.**

 **I'll try to update again soon! Please leave me a review! I love reviews! Thanks for reading! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for all the reviews/follows/favorites I got last chapter! I appreciate it A WHOOOOLE BUNCH! Seriously, I'm so relieved that people actually LIKE this story so far! I was really worried about that when I first started working on this, so thank you everyone! :D**

 **ON WITH CHAPTER THREEEEEEE!**

* * *

 **Hesh P.O.V**

I was reluctant to leave Logan alone today. Something felt... wrong. He's been very quiet lately, which isn't like him. I've also noticed that even at home, he seems nervous... almost scared.

He's so skittish now that if I reach for him, he'll flinch as if he thinks I'm going to hit him. I've never hit him, not seriously. Sure, I've playfully punched him in the arm before, but I've never _hurt_ him. And I don't intend to.

Another thing that's really been bothering me- he won't eat. It's as if he's completely lost interest in food- even his favorites. Every time we have a meal together, he barely even picks at his food.

Last night I was surprised to see him eat _half_ of his plate.

His insomnia seems to be bugging him more than usual as well. The dark circles under his eyes prove it. I'm really worried about him, but every time I ask if he's okay or if he needs to talk to me about something, the answer is always the same.

 _"I'm fine."_

The first few times, I let it go. I figured he was just having a bad day. Bad days happen to everyone, after all. ...But soon, that bad day turned into a bad week. And that bad week turned into a bad month.

It's been two months since that first bad day, and Logan's gotten so much worse since then. He hardly even speaks to me anymore, despite the fact that we were so close before. I've told dad that I think something is seriously wrong, but he just said that Logan was a grumpy teenager and he was fine.

I had grown to despise- to _hate-_ the word fine.

I really wish Logan would just tell me what's wrong. I want to help him, but I can't do that if he shuts me out.

I sighed and glanced at the clock. It read 7:43 and our bus came around 7:50.

 _I'll check on Logan one more time before I go..._

I quietly crept into his room, trying my best not to make any loud noises. His blanket was on the opposite side of his bed and he was sound asleep, his hair a fluffy mess. I shook my head as I noticed that he was still wearing his hoodie.

 _I swear, he never takes that thing off..._

I picked up his blanket and covered him in it before quietly leaving the room.

I got on the bus and went to school, but I couldn't concentrate all day. I was too worried about Logan to focus on my schoolwork, and the day passed in a blur.

When I got home, I found Logan asleep on the couch, his leg propped up on several pillows.

 _I don't think I've seen him sleep this much in weeks. He must be tired..._

I smiled and ruffled his hair as I walked by, and he continued to sleep peacefully.

* * *

 **The Next Day...**

 **Logan P.O.V**

My ankle felt better today- by that I mean I can walk on it without dying. Yeah... that was both a gift and a curse. I felt better, which was nice. But it also meant I had to go back to school- which absolutely sucked.

What's worse is that even though I slept for like half the day yesterday, I was still exhausted when I woke up this morning. I was just like a zombie...

I knew I shouldn't have gone to school today. I fucking _knew._ I should've pretended to be sick or even _dying,_ but I shouldn't have gone to school. Not today...

My whole morning went fine, which gave me a false sense of security. Evan glared at me a few times, but that was it. Therefore, I was in a pretty good mood on my way back from lunch.

...Until I was grabbed and forcefully dragged into a bathroom. I didn't even get the chance to yell before it was too late. I didn't have to see Evan to know it was him. He threw me up against the wall and pinned me there, his hands at my throat.

I couldn't breathe. My lungs burned in protest, but there was nothing I could do. One thing I had learned from my experiences with Evan is that retaliation would only result in more pain.

"I missed you yesterday, Walker. Didn't you miss me?" He sneered, punching me in the face.

I cried out as the impact sent searing pain throughout my skull. Something warm trickled down my cheek, and I vaguely realized that it was blood. He had a sharp ring on the hand that he punched me with. It had carved a large gash in my face, right along my left cheekbone, which hurt like _hell._

He threw me to the floor, efficiently knocking the breath out of me, and started kicking me in the ribs.

Tears streamed down my face. I was shaking. Everything hurt and it wouldn't stop. Evan kicked me again and again, each blow harder than the last. At one point I heard something crack. I screamed, but that just made it worse.

"Why are you crying?! Are you a fucking baby?!" He teased, kicking me again.

Another crack. Black spots danced across my vision as I tried and failed to breathe. My lungs just didn't want to cooperate. It didn't help that breathing hurt like hell. Even gasping in small breaths was agonizing.

"You're such a wimpy little bitch! No wonder everyone hates you. You're a waste of oxygen!"

He continued yelling insults like that in between kicks, but eventually his voice faded away. I was a screaming, crying, shaking mess. I was aware of nothing but the excruciating pain in my chest and the overwhelming desire to make it stop by any means necessary.

I was so upset that I didn't hear the door to the bathroom open. But I did notice when Hesh ran in and tackled Evan, proceeding to beat the living shit out of him. I had never seen him so furious. It was almost scary, seeing him that way.

I curled in on myself and cried while they fought. I was too terrified to move. Even if I wasn't, I wouldn't have been able to get up. Everything hurt too much.

After several minutes, I opened my eyes a bit and saw red. Red all over the floor. Red on the sink. Red on the mirror. Blood was just everywhere, and for one horrifying moment, I thought it was Hesh's.

That was when I saw Evan. He was laying on the floor, facing me. His face was so bloody that I could barely recognize him. His nose was smashed in, and I had a feeling that that was because Hesh had slammed it into the edge of the sink.

I wanted to puke. I had a strong stomach, but there was just so much blood and everything hurt and I couldn't _breathe-_

A hand grabbed my shoulder and I screamed.

"N-no! Please no more! P-please don't!" I cried, desperately trying to push myself away from them.

"Logan, stop! It's just me! You're okay, I've got you. It's okay..." Hesh said, carefully wrapping his arms around me.

I clung to him and cried like a small child. I couldn't help it. I was so relieved that he had come in when he did. If he hadn't... God, I don't even want to imagine what would've happened if he hadn't.

Everything hurt. Throbbing pain ran throughout my body, all the way from my head to my toes, but I have to say that breathing hurt the most. Every time I inhaled, it was like stabbing myself in the side- over and over and over again. It made me want to just stop breathing altogether. But I couldn't do that. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't.

"Shhh, Logan, I'm here. You're okay, just breathe..." He murmured, rubbing slow circles into my back.

It was unbelievably difficult not to flinch away from him. The only reason I didn't was because I knew that moving would be a mistake. The bruises that covered my back from being slammed into lockers and walls felt like they were on fire, and him rubbing them certainly didn't help.

After a while, I managed to calm down a bit. I wasn't physically able to cry any more and I was still shaking like a Chihuahua, but the pain in my body had dulled slightly. I had never been so grateful for something in my entire life.

"Dad's on his way to pick us up, Logan. I'm gonna have to carry you to the office... C'mere." He said, sliding an arm under my knees and using the other to support my back.

 _When did he call dad...?_ I wondered, wincing and biting the inside of my mouth as he carefully picked me up.

"Dad was at home, so he should be close by the time we get to the office. We'll get you home so you can rest, alright?" He asked, looking down at me as we passed the cafeteria.

I nodded silently. I was barely conscious. I just wanted everything to stop hurting. I was _so_ tired of feeling pain. Tired of being bullied. Tired of feeling alone. I was tired of everything.

I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again. I hadn't realized I was falling asleep until a hand ran through my hair. I startled awake and vaguely recognized the walls of the front office.

"-ogan. Logan, hey, I need you to stay awake until Keegan checks you over. -ust a few... minutes, alright?"

I didn't catch all of that, but I understood it... and I wasn't happy about it. I wanted to go to sleep so, _so_ badly. I wanted to just close my eyes and drift away from everyone and everything. I was exhausted- mentally, emotionally, physically. The whole nine yards.

The pain didn't help. I knew that if I went to sleep, I wouldn't feel it anymore. I wouldn't have to think about what I had just experienced and the fact that Hesh saw me get beat up. He must think I'm such a wimp...

I didn't realize I was drifting off again until Hesh tugged on my hair, more insistently this time. I let out a pitiful, broken whine and he sighed, anxiously tapping his foot.

"Shhh, I know, I know. It's okay, dad's almost here..."

People were rushing around the office. I could hear their shoes clacking on the tile floor as they walked by. Their panicked voices sounded like a dull buzz in the distance.

I thought I heard Hesh say something, but I was too tired to really listen and interpret his words. My exhaustion from earlier hadn't gone away. In fact, it had intensified and now I was more exhausted than ever. The only thing that kept me awake was Hesh- whom refused to leave me be.

With tons of effort, I opened my eyes a bit and noticed that we were moving. Huh... that's weird. I didn't even feel Hesh stand up.

 _Oh, the things you miss when you're injured and barely conscious..._

"Oh my god! What the hell happ-"

"-ust drive. ...explain everything after he... -ettled."

Listening to them talk was like trying to hear someone speak to you while you're underwater. It was impossible to get proper sentences out of it.

The car ride was quiet... I think. I'm not entirely sure about that, because I couldn't focus on much other than the throbbing pain running throughout my entire body.

Hesh had pulled me back from sleep at least three times by the time we got home, which annoyed the shit out of me. I just wanted some damn sleep! How hard could it be to just ignore me and let me sleep? ...I'm totally gonna get payback when I regain the ability to move without wanting to die.

Breathing was the worst part. Each breath was _so_ painful, but it's not like I could just stop breathing. Instead, I was forced to take small breaths, which made me feel like I wasn't getting enough air. It gave the illusion of suffocation, which really freaked me out. I literally _couldn't_ breathe any deeper though. If I did, it would hurt like _hell_ and I would probably scream, thus losing the oxygen I had just acquired and rendering the whole process useless.

I cried out, squeezing my eyes shut and clenching my teeth as I resisted the urge to scream when Hesh stood up. There was no way to avoid a shift in position as he stood- and that almost hurt worse than breathing because the pain intensified _everywhere_ instead of just in my ribs.

I could feel myself slipping away. I didn't have the determination nor the energy to open my eyes again. People were talking, but I could no longer focus enough to even _try_ listening to them. I vaguely felt hands cupping my cheeks, shaking me, pulling at my hair- doing anything they could to keep me awake for just a few more minutes.

That was the last thing I was aware of before I was dragged into the dark, scary land of unconsciousness.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay! BEFORE ANYONE YELLS AT ME- Yes, I am aware that after Logan got beat up, this chapter was a bit patchy and hard to follow. I did that on purpose because... well, Logan was hardly even conscious. Therefore, he was unable to pay much attention to people and his surroundings. There! I have explained it! So don't yell at meee~**

 **Anywho, this is the longest chapter yet! Yaaay! I worked really hard on it too, so please leave me a review! Reviews are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!**

 **Byeee! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi guys! I'm sorry it's been a few weeks, but I was finishing up Time Will Tell and I've been insanely busy lately! This chapter is gonna have a lot of stuff happening all at once, so it's gonna be a bit crazy. I hope you enjoy it though!**

 **Here's chapter 4! :)**

* * *

 **Hesh P.O.V**

Logan was passed out on the couch. Even while he was unconscious, his face was set in a grimace- as if he was still in pain. His breathing was so ragged and uneven that I was terrified it would stop at any moment. There were several small bruises around his neck. I hadn't been in the bathroom when it happened, but I could tell Evan had choked him. The gash in his cheek- which Keegan was getting ready to stitch- already had bruising around it. The dark circles under his eyes were more defined than ever.

Yes, all of this was bad. And the more I looked at his many injuries, the more infuriated I got. ...But none of those injuries could compare to the horrifying sight that was his arms. We discovered them when Keegan removed Logan's hoodie and shirt to get a look at the damage to his rib cage. He had also wanted to put an IV in, because it was obvious that he hadn't been eating nearly enough. The IV would at least keep him hydrated until he woke up and we got a meal or two in him. It would also make it easier to give him meds.

But when Keegan had removed his clothes, it revealed his arms, which were both marred with long, thin scars. Silence enveloped the room. The majority of them were old and faded (although still visible)... but his wrists were wrapped in disturbingly fresh gauze. Without a word, Keegan cut it away to display what appeared to be very recent cuts. ... _A lot_ of them. We all just stared in shock and horror, none of us knowing what to do. Dad left without a word, slamming the door behind himself. Merrick went after him.

"Oh shit..." Kick said, seemingly still in shock.

Keegan sighed and- with an unnerving amount of calm- cleaned the top of Logan's left hand and put an IV in. Then he gently began to clean out the gash in Logan's cheek. He ignored the cuts. He acted as if they weren't even there.

After a moment, he turned and looked at me. I would never forget the look he gave me. It was a look of pure understanding. It clearly showed that he understood what I was going through and how I felt. In that one glance, he understood that I felt I had failed as a brother. He understood that I blamed myself for this whole thing and that I hated myself for letting it happen.

...Therefore, he should've understood that I didn't want to leave Logan alone.

Because apparently whenever I leave him alone... he cuts himself. How could I have missed that?! We only have one parent- our dad- whom is never home. Logan and I- we're all we've got. I'm his older brother. No matter what happens, I'm supposed to always be there for him and protect him.

But I failed. I failed to notice that he was being bullied- verbally and physically. I failed to notice that every night, he couldn't sleep because he was so depressed. I failed to notice that he cut himself.

Since I had failed to notice all of those things, I didn't want to leave Logan alone. Not ever again. I wanted to stay by his side and protect him from everyone and everything. That's what I wanted.

...But apparently it wasn't what I needed.

"Kick, patch Hesh up and take him to get some food, would you?" He asked as he shared a look with Kick.

Kick nodded and said, "Sure... C'mon, Hesh."

I didn't move. Did they really expect me to leave Logan after what just happened? After what I had just seen?! Kick, seeing that I had no intention of leaving Logan's side, tried to make me feel better.

"Hesh, Logan's gonna be fine. Keegan will stay right beside him until we get back. Quit worrying about him. Your hands are a mess and we need to clean them up, so come on." He reasoned, grabbing my arm and attempting to pull me up.

"I'm not leaving." I growled, my eyes locked on Logan's still form.

Keegan paused in his stitching and fixed me with a stern look.

"Hesh, I'm a soldier that's armed to the teeth and is specially trained. Do you really think anyone could hurt Logan with me sitting here? Not to mention Riley." He added, gesturing to him.

Riley barked from his spot on the couch, seeming to know that we were talking about him.

"And if you're worried about not being here when he wakes up- don't. I gave him some sedatives to keep him under until his ribs have healed up a bit, that way he won't have to fight so hard to breathe when he wakes up. I also did it to ensure that he gets plenty of rest, because he's obviously very sleep deprived. Now go with Kick before I have him drag you from the house."

I didn't want to admit it, but he had several good points. After some thought, I sighed and reluctantly followed Kick into the kitchen, which was practically on the other side of the house.

I hated that. I hated it even more because that's probably why Kick led me there.

We sat down and he placed a med kit on the table, rummaging through its contents until he found what he needed. I glanced at what he had grabbed- a couple rolls of gauze, medical tape, and some peroxide. Then I looked down at my hands. I was shocked to see that my knuckles were bruised and bloody. All of them were busted. I hadn't even been aware of the throbbing pain in them, until now.

"Hesh?"

I jumped, then looked at Kick and said, "Huh?"

"I said give me your hands." He repeated with a concerned expression.

"Oh... right. Sorry."

I placed my hands in front of him on the table and silently watched as he cleaned the open wounds and began wrapping my hands in gauze. It didn't take him long to finish, and soon he moved on to my face. He took my chin in his hand and turned my head, looking for any open wounds that needed to be cleaned and bandaged.

After about a minute he sighed and said, "You've only got a few bruises, which is good. Does your head hurt?"

I just kind of looked at him, waiting for further explanation. After a few moments, he elaborated.

"Do you want pain meds?"

I shook my head and stared at the floor.

"You sure?" He pressed.

"Mhmmm."

The silence that followed hung thick in the air. Kick- for once- didn't know what to say.

Finally, after the worst minute of my life, he asked, "...Hesh, are you alright?"

I raised my eyes to meet his, and thought about it. Was I alright? The immediate answer that rose in my mind was: _N_ _o, of course I'm not alright. I had one job._ One _job- to always be there for Logan. My goal was to always be there for him without fail. To be such a reliable, loving brother that for Logan, the pain of having one parent (who was never around) wasn't quite as sharp._

 _But I had failed. I had failed to do the one thing I was put here to do._

"No..." I finally answered, my voice hollow. "How could I be? I wasn't there for Logan when he really needed me... I'm the only person who _can_ be there for him, and I wasn't. He... he hurt himself. He's _been_ hurting himself for a long time, and I didn't even notice! I'm a _terrible_ brother!"

"No you're not, Hesh. You can't blame yourself for things that you couldn't have prevented."

"But how did I miss the fact that he's been cutting himself?! Even a total dumbass would have noticed that he never wore short sleeves and wondered why!"

He considered this and said, "I have several friends who always wear long sleeves- and they don't have any issues with self harm. They just wear warm clothes because they like it. You can't assume people cut themselves just because they wear long sleeves all the time, Hesh."

I huffed in frustration and snapped, "Well I'm still his older brother! It's my _job_ is to notice these things and ask about them!"

"You weren't _supposed_ to notice! Logan probably bent over backwards to make sure you didn't! Hesh, you more than anyone know that he doesn't like asking for help. He probably felt that if he told you, he would be bothering you."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Logan doesn't _ever_ bother me! He never has, and he never will! How could he think that he would _bother_ me?!"

"I don't know, Hesh! I don't know, because I'm not Logan! But I _do_ know that we need to get going." He said firmly, standing up and grabbing his car keys.

"But-"

"No, we'll work this out after you've eaten. Come on."

"I'm not hungry."

Silence once again filled the room... After nearly a full minute, he finally thought of something to say.

"Look," he sighed, putting a hand on my shoulder, "I know you've dealt with a lot today and you're worried about Logan. But he's resting and Keegan is fixing him up, so right now you need to focus on yourself."

"...How is that going to help anything?" I grumbled.

"I know this isn't what you want to hear, but it's actually the best thing you can do right now. Because if you aren't in top condition, how the hell do you expect to take care of Logan when he wakes up?"

"..."

He chuckled and said, "I'm not getting any younger, Hesh."

"...I guess I wouldn't be able to..."

"Exactly. So come on, let's go get some food."

I still didn't really want to go.

"I'll take you wherever you wanna go." He offered.

"...Okay... I _guess_ I'll come." I said quietly, standing and following him to the door.

He grinned and opened the door for me, "Oh, that's cute."

"...What is?"

"You think you had a choice."

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Hesh is so upset, omg! I almost feel bad for him...**

 **Please leave me some reviews! I'll try to update again soon! Goodbye, my lovelies! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story so far! I really appreciate it! Speaking of reviews, Baffled Queen and JustaBunchofNonsense are the only people who bothered to review on chapter four, which means that they are my favorite people!**

 **They have both left me several reviews so far, and reading them never fails to make me smile! Thank you so much, guys! On another note- this does NOT mean that I don't appreciate my other reviewers! I love all of them, but I was just appreciating Baffled Queen and JustaBunchofNonsense in particular because they almost always leave me reviews, which I am very thankful for!**

 **WARNING: Very strong language in this chapter! Some violence! And a TON of angst!**

 **Btw... Baffled Queen was right in her review... *evil laugh***

 **ON WITH CHAPTER FIIIIIVE!**

* * *

 **Hesh P.O.V**

Kick took me to MacDonald's and I ordered some nuggets and fries. I had asked to go there because I really wasn't hungry, and I didn't want him spending money on expensive food if I wasn't going to eat much of it. Originally, I wasn't going to eat anything at all. ...But Kick kept shoving food at me, so I ate- mostly just so he would quit bugging me.

The drive back home was quiet and short. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, I jumped out of the car and made a beeline for the house.

When I got inside, Logan was no longer on the couch.

My heart leapt into my throat as my overly creative mind conjured up the worst of possibilities. I ran for the bedrooms and damn near gave Riley a heart attack in doing so. He had been asleep on the couch when I came running in like a stampede of elephants. He barked at me and growled, angry that I had interrupted his beauty sleep.

"Sorry, boy." I muttered as I passed him.

My heart was still racing when I entered my room.

Keegan looked up at me and grinned, saying, "Sorry I scared you. I should've told you I was going to move him when I got the chance."

"...Yeah, that would've been nice."

"So, what did you eat?"

"Food."

He chuckled and asked, "What kind of food, smart ass?"

"...The edible kind."

He sighed and said, "Did you actually eat anything?"

"It took me _ten damn minutes_ to get a chicken nugget in him!" Kick yelled from the living room.

"Yeah, but I ate! So shut up before I come out there and make you!" I yelled back.

I heard him laugh from in the living room. I shook my head and looked at Logan.

He was laying unnervingly still in my bed, the only indication that he was still alive being the uneven rise and fall of his chest. His breathing sounded just as bad as it had when Kick and I left, which worried me to no end... And I just wasn't used to seeing him so still. He has ADHD, so he's always fidgeting or pacing. In other words- he never stops moving.

...But now he laid so still that it was just... _wrong._ It was wrong in every sense of the word, and in no way did it help convince me that he was going to be alright.

"Quit worrying about him and come lay down. You look exhausted." Keegan ordered, patting the bed as he stood up.

"I'm good."

"No, seriously, Hesh. Come take a nap."

"Whyyyy?" I groaned.

"Because I told you to."

"Give me some real reasons and I might consider it." I said, shooting him a glare.

He glared right back at me and I had to resist the urge to step away from him.

"Because you need one. And because I need a break. So lay your whiny ass down and go the fuck to sleep!" He demanded, pointing to the open space beside Logan.

Silence filled the room...

"Okay... but only because I feel like it." I relented.

"Whatever floats your boat, kid."

"I'm not a kid," I complained as I pulled my shoes off, "I'm almost 18."

"Well I'm gonna keep calling you kid... because I feel like it." He smirked, reaching for the door knob.

I glared wordlessly at him and he laughed.

"Okay, okay, I'm going. You'd better actually sleep, though! I swear to God if I come in here and you're not-"

"Alright, alright, I'll sleep! Go away! You're being annoying!" I groused, throwing a pillow at him.

He laughed and left, shutting the door behind himself.

"Finally," I sighed, "some peace and quiet."

It took me a while to fall asleep because of everything that happened today. I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was also difficult to shift my focus away from Logan. I had a habit of listening to his breathing to make sure he was okay- especially when he was injured. Therefore, it was hard for me to clear my mind and relax so I could go to sleep.

I was also worried that I would roll over or kick my leg out in my sleep and accidentally hurt Logan. I wasn't exactly a sound sleeper...

But after a while my eyes grew heavy, and I drifted to sleep.

* * *

It seemed like I had only been asleep for a few minutes when I was woken up by a loud crash, which was immediately followed by muffled yelling. I was instantly alert. I jumped out of bed, glancing at Logan to make sure he was alright before heading to the door.

I quietly opened it and peeked down the hallway.

Nothing.

I trudged into the living room and walked around a shattered pile of glass- the remains of a vase that had sat on the counter for years. I jumped when the yelling abruptly started again.

"WHY CAN...T 'E JUST BE A NORMAL KID?! WHY DOES HE HAVE TO... HAVE DEPRESSION AAAND ANXIETY... 'ND ALL THESE ANNOYING ASSSS DISABILITIES?!" Elias yelled, slurring terribly.

First, I felt hurt. How could he say those things about Logan?! He's supposed to be our father. He's supposed to want to help us, but instead he's being an asshole when Logan needs him the most.

...Then the rage came. He's never home- which probably doesn't help Logan's depression. Or his anxiety, for that matter. We both worry about him getting killed on a mission and never coming home. In fact, it causes us quite a bit of stress.

Logan needs him right now. He needs both of us to support him and help him through this, and Elias decides to go out and get so shitfaced that he's actually _mad_ at Logan for his problems?! Problems that he literally has no control over, no less?!

He has the nerve to be mad at my little brother. _My_ little brother- who's been bullied for months, so depressed he stopped eating, and has been cutting himself because he wasn't comfortable enough to reach out and ask us for help?!

Hell.

Fucking.

 _No._

I was so furious that my hands were shaking. My nails dug into my palms so hard that they drew blood.

"I WISH I HAD A NORMAL SON...! ONE WHOOO WASN'T SUCH A... A PAIN IN THE ASS!" He shouted, and I could hear everyone else shushing him and trying to shut him up.

I was absolutely livid as I walked into his room. I threw the door open and the rest of the Ghost team looked at me with expressions that clearly said, 'oh fuck...'

Elias looked at me with unfocused, bloodshot eyes, and said, "Oh looook... There's the only... good k-kid I have in this-"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before- without the slightest hesitation- I walked over to him and punched him as hard as I could. None of the others dared to try and stop me.

He cried out- somewhat in shock, but mostly out of pain. I had felt my knuckles bust open again, but I ignored them. Blood poured from his nose as I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him from the room.

"Get the _fuck_ out of my house, you drunken bastard!" I growled, shoving him toward the door.

He, as expected, stumbled and fell to the floor.

...Although I must say what he did next surprised me.

He glared up at me and said, "Oh... so this's YOUR house now... huh?!"

"Damn right it is, because you're never fucking home! And now I'd like it to stay that way! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

"You can't kick meh out of ma own-"

I grabbed him by the arm again- my grip so tight that bruises formed soon after- and opened the front door, literally throwing him outside.

"DON'T YOU DARE COME BACK UNTIL YOU'RE SOBER, JACKASS! IF YOU DO, I'LL THROW YOU RIGHT BACK DOWN THESE STAIRS!" I shouted.

He tumbled down the stairs, yelling curses at the top of his lungs as he did so, and I slammed the door. I locked it in every way possible before turning to the Ghosts and glaring at the whole lot of them.

"Why the _fuck_ did you let him come back like that?! What the hell is wrong with you?!" I growled at Merrick.

"I'm sorry, Hesh, I didn't know he was going to be a jerk... He was fine the whole ride home..." He said, looking down at the floor.

"I thought you went with him to _watch_ him, Merrick! How could you let him drink so much?!"

"He wouldn't stop! He's my boss, Hesh, there wasn't much I could do!"

I ignored his completely _useless_ explanation and turned to the others.

"And _you!_ I heard _all_ of you trying to keep him quiet so I wouldn't hear him. Why? So I wouldn't give him what he damn well deserved?! Grow a fucking _pair!_ I know he's your boss, but he's also your friend. If he's being a jackass, put him in his goddamn place! ...But of course if Merrick hadn't let him get so shitfaced in the first place, this wouldn't have-"

"Okay, Hesh, we get it." Keegan said, "You're mad at Merrick- and you have every right to be, but what's done is done. Your dad is-"

 _"Don't_ call him that." I snarled.

He paused for a moment, then continued.

"...Elias is gone now, so just calm down. Being mad now isn't going to help anyth-"

"No. You know what, Keegan?! I _am_ mad. Fuck that, I'm livid! And I'm gonna _stay_ that way, because I'm related to the jackass I just kicked out, which _disgusts_ me! I'm mad because my brother is laying in my bed, half dead! I'm mad because I only have _one_ parent, and now I feel like I can't look up to him anymore because he's a jerk! That's literally the nicest thing I can say about him right now. And that's sunshine and rainbows compared to what I'd like to call him!"

"I know, but he... he didn't mean what he said! He's drunk! Drunk people say things they don't mean all the time, Hesh. You can't take anything they say to heart." Kick explained half-heartedly.

Just like that, I wasn't furious anymore. I'm not sure if it's because of what Kick said or because nobody can stay furious forever. But now I felt betrayed. I could feel a huge hole in my chest where my dad used to be. And I'm not talking about the idiot I just kicked out. I mean my _dad._ The one who taught me how to hunt when I was 10 and went fishing with me every chance he got. I'm referring to the loving father that raised me and made me who I am today.

And now that this had happened, it _hurt._

I really wanted to be alone. Without a word, I pushed past the Ghosts and ran to my room, locking the door behind myself. I sat down beside my bed and held Logan's hand, ignoring the knocks at the door and the pleads to be let in.

I tried so, _so_ hard not to cry. I didn't want to. I kept telling myself that I needed to be strong for Logan's sake. But after a while, the hole in my chest devoured that thought, and tears fell freely from my eyes.

Today is the day my father died.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hi guys! I'm back! I wanna take a minute to thank GhostlyMax because he/she reviewed on chapter 5 and their review made me laugh! Thank you very much, GhostlyMax!**

 **Also, SpitfireUSN is very much appreciated! She tried to help me with ideas and even though she couldn't get any, I really appreciate the fact that she tried! ^_^**

 **ON WITH CHAPTER FIVE! A.K.A THE LONG ASS CHAPTER THAT I HAD TROUBLE FINDING A STOPPING POINT IN!**

* * *

 **Hesh P.O.V**

Eventually the others gave up on trying to get me to open the door. I didn't sleep a wink that night. I just sat by Logan's bed, holding his hand and waiting for him to wake up.

I had a terrible headache from crying, even though I had stopped hours ago. I wanted to take some pain meds for it, but I really didn't feel like going out there to face everyone. I sighed and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost 7:00 in the morning. They'd definitely be awake by now- if they ever went to bed in the first place.

 _I really need to go back to the high school today and grab Logan's stuff from his locker. Well, if there's anything left to grab. Those terrible kids might've ruined it all... Or maybe they saw Evan's screwed up face as he was put in the ambulance and finally decided to leave Logan be. Either way, it doesn't matter. Logan won't be going back there, and I'm probably getting sent to an alternative school for a while..._

I don't want to leave Logan, but I can't stay in here forever. Plus, at this point, Keegan is probably dying to get in here and check on him... My assumption was deemed correct when I heard quiet clicking sounds coming from the door handle. After a few moments, there was a loud click, and the door slowly opened to reveal the tall medic.

When his eyes landed on me, he sighed and entered the room, closing the door behind himself.

"Good morning, Hesh." He said cautiously.

"...Hi." I mumbled.

He checked Logan's vitals and his IV, then grabbed some fresh bandages and peroxide from the shelf.

He sat down and said, "I need to change his bandages and clean the wounds, otherwise they'll get infected."

"I... know." I said through a yawn that I failed to suppress.

He chuckled and said, "Of course you do. You look like shit, by the way."

"Gee, thanks."

"No problem."

I glared at him and he laughed.

"Okay, I'm sorry."

"Thank-"

"...But it's true."

"Shut up," I sighed, leaning forward and taking a few cotton balls and the container of peroxide from the pile.

"Who said you could help?" He asked as I poured peroxide on them.

"I did."

He seemed to think for a moment, then said, "Don't screw anything up."

"We're just cleaning out wounds and replacing dirty bandages. It's not _possible_ to mess that up."

"Heh... You'd be surprised."

We sat in silence while we worked. We had each taken one of his arms and cleaned the small, thin cuts that resided there. I felt sick looking at them- mostly because I knew they wouldn't be there if I had done something sooner. If I had helped Logan before things got this bad... The more I thought of it, the more my head hurt.

I huffed in frustration and pushed the thoughts from my mind. Worrying and thinking about the what ifs wasn't going to help Logan.

"You okay?" Keegan asked, concern clear in his voice.

"Yeah... yeah. I'm fine." I said as I wrapped new bandages around Logan's arm.

As I reached for more cotton balls to start cleaning the gash on Logan's cheek, he caught my hand. I winced and immediately pulled it back.

"Please tell me you cleaned those last night..." Keegan said.

 _Oh shit._ _I_ _totally forgot..._

"I uhh... I forgot..."

"Damn it, Hesh. I told you to take care of yourself! Let me see." He said, grabbing my hand and cutting the bloody bandages.

The blood from busting my knuckles open again when I punched Elias had dried to the bandages. Keegan tried to gently pull them off, but that hurt like hell.

"Owww! Stop it!" I whined, half-heartedly attempting to pull my hand away.

"Sit still."

"It huuurts!"

"Quit whining."

The door opened and Merrick walked in, saying, "What's going on in here?"

"Oh, good, you're here. I need you to get a bowl of warm water and soak his hands in it. The bandages aren't coming off and ripping them off would probably just do more damage." He explained.

Merrick nodded and went to leave, but Keegan stopped him again.

"Look out for signs of infection, Merrick. And give him some Ibuprofen."

"...Why?" I grumbled as I stood up.

"Your head hurts, doesn't it?"

"Uhh... yeah..."

"I thought so. And I want you to get some rest after your hands are cleaned up." He said sternly.

I groaned.

"I'm serious."

"But I have to go get Logan's stuff from the high school..."

Merrick shook his head.

"They're not gonna let you in. One of us will have to go later today."

"You're in no condition to be driving anyways, Hesh. I can tell you didn't get any sleep last night. Now get moving. You'll be lucky if those hands of yours aren't infected."

"They can't be infected _already."_ I protested as Merrick led me from the room.

"Hi Hesh!" Kick chirped as we went through the living room.

I waved to him before we turned the corner and he went out of sight.

When we reached the kitchen, Merrick said, "It doesn't take long for open wounds to get infected. Sit down."

Kick walked into the room and sat down beside me with a smile.

"What are you guys doing in here?" He asked, glancing between me and Merrick.

"Fixing his hands. Here, take 2." Merrick answered, setting 2 pills and a glass of water in front of me.

"Ibuprofen?" I asked.

"No, I couldn't find any. That's Tylenol."

I nodded and swallowed them one at a time.

"Kick, check and see if he has a fever." Merrick said as he filled a bowl with warm water.

"Okay..." He replied, putting a hand to my forehead. "Nope, he doesn't have one."

He nodded and placed the bowl in front of me on the table. I rolled up my sleeves and silently put my hands in the water. It stung a bit at first, but after a few moments it wasn't as bad.

"Leave your hands in there for a few minutes, then we'll get those bandages off and check for infection."

I nodded and stared at the floor the whole time, tuning them out as they talked. I was too tired to say much anyways...

The water was tinted pink by the time I took my hands out.

"Alright, let's see what's going on here..." Merrick said as he peeled the bandages off each of my hands.

The sight underneath wasn't pretty... On both hands my knuckles were swollen and red, the open wounds leaking blood and a bit of pus.

Merrick just sighed.

Kick made a face and said, "Ewww..."

I jumped as Riley walked up to me and rested his head on my knee.

"Oh... hi, boy." I muttered, patting him on the head with my less irritated hand.

I hadn't heard him walk into the room.

"Well, they're just in the early stages of infection. It doesn't look nearly as bad as it could, and you don't even have a fever. I'll give you some antibiotics and we'll keep them clean, and in a day or two the infection should clear up." Merrick explained, digging through the medicine cabinet.

"Yeah, it could be a lot worse." Kick agreed.

"Mmmm..." I hummed, absently petting Riley.

They cleaned out my cuts and wrapped my hands in fresh bandages before giving me some antibiotics and sending me to bed. I ended up crashing on the couch, since Keegan refused to let me sulk beside Logan's bed and I didn't want to be alone in my room.

I was exhausted, and it took only seconds for me to fall asleep...

* * *

 **A Few Hours Later...**

 **Logan P.O.V**

The first thing I noticed when I woke up- I was warm. I was so comfortable that I never wanted to move again. For the first time in a long time, I felt... better. There was a dull ache that ran throughout my body, but other than that I felt okay... almost good.

But I was in no hurry to get up.

Getting up meant repeating the words I hated every time someone asked if I was alright- _I'm fine_. Getting up meant going back to school only to get beat up and bullied all day. Getting up meant willingly returning to the hell that was my life. Therefore, I was content to just lay in bed with my eyes closed.

As I laid there, things started to come back to me... Evan beating the shit out of me in the bathroom... Hesh saving my ass and rushing me home...

Home. If I'm home, then where's Hesh? Is he okay? ...Am _I_ okay? I feel okay... but something's not right. Something feels off.

My eyes snapped open.

I was only able to sit up about halfway before crying out in pain and laying back down. My ribs were literally _throbbing._ The ache I noticed earlier seemed more prominent than before. I didn't feel okay anymore... and I wasn't even _close_ to feeling good.

It was hard to breathe, because if I inhaled too much or too quickly, pain shot through my ribs.

My eyes snapped to the door when I heard footsteps coming from down the hall.

 _Someone's coming._

As a second thought, I glanced down at my arms to make sure they were covered. It had become a well ingrained habit after months of cutting myself and hiding it from everyone.

My stomach dropped when I saw that my arms were wrapped in bandages. They... they _saw_ my cuts?! Oh shit! What if they're mad at me? What if they call me a freak and lock me up in a padded cell like a crazy person?!

Suddenly I couldn't breathe. The footsteps that were getting closer as each second passed rang in my ears. I was absolutely terrified of what whoever was coming down that hall was going to say to me. What if it's dad? What if he's disappointed in me?

A million thoughts raced through my head in the span of a few seconds. The room seemed to spin. I felt like I was going to be sick. I wasn't at all prepared to talk to anyone about this.

The door opened and Keegan walked in with a smile.

"Hey, you're awake! I thought I heard you... How are you feeling? You look a bit pale..." He said, pulling a chair up and sitting by my bed.

I swallowed thickly and hesitantly said, "...I feel fine..."

My voice sounded like I had gargled rocks, and even _I_ had to wince at how bad it sounded.

He handed me a glass of water from the nightstand and I eagerly gulped it down.

"Slowly, Logan, or you're gonna choke." He chided gently, leaning forward and taking the water from me.

At least my throat wasn't so dry anymore...

There was an awkward silence for a few moments before I cleared my throat and asked, "Where's Hesh...?"

"Oh, he's passed out on the couch. He's been worried sick about you for days, but other than that, he's fine."

 _Days? How long have I been asleep?_

"Almost two, I had you on sedatives to give your ribs a head start on healing before you woke up." He explained.

Oh... well apparently I said my thoughts aloud.

"Oh... no wonder I'm so tired. Uhh... where's dad?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation directed at anything and anyone but myself.

"...He went out to get food a while ago." Keegan answered after a bit of hesitation.

"...You hesitated. What is it?" I asked, my worry growing by the second.

Had something happened to dad? Is he okay?

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing. I just realized I forgot to ask him to pick up some food for you. You've gotta be hungry by now..."

"No... I'm fine."

"What do you mean? You've lost quite a bit of weight, Logan... That's not good."

"I don't want to eat..." I mumbled as tears rose in my eyes.

"Why not?"

There was a moment of silence before I gathered up my courage and quietly said, "...The kids at school call me a fatass..."

His expression softened and he sighed.

"Look, Logan, I know that you're dealing with some things right now... Things you really shouldn't have to, and _believe_ me, I know it's hard. But you need to take care of yourself. You need to eat, because- trust me when I say this- you're about as far away from a fatass as it's possible to get. And this," he said, taking my hand and pointing to the scars the peeked out from the bandages, "needs to stop."

I yanked my hand away and hid it underneath the blankets.

"I'm serious, Logan. How long have you been doing it?"

I didn't answer.

"How long?" Keegan questioned.

I wasn't going to answer him.

"This can stay between us, Logan. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to. I just want to know how long you've been cutting yourself."

I warily looked up at him and said, "Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise. I won't tell anyone."

"...Four months..."

He nodded and said, "Okay, and from the time you started cutting up until now- has anything changed? Has your life gotten better since you started doing it?"

I thought about it and the answer was no. In fact, as the months went by, things had gotten worse and worse...

I shook my head.

"Then why do you bother doing it? It doesn't benefit you or anyone else in any way. It doesn't help anything. What's the point of doing it?" He asked.

I had never really thought of that... To be honest, I just did it because it made me feel better. It relieved my stress when nothing else helped. Well... talking to Hesh probably would've helped, but I couldn't do that. He had his own issues to deal with...

"It... it helps relieve my stress..." I mumbled.

"Would talking to someone about your problems not have helped?"

"It probably would have... But I didn't want to bug Hesh, and there's no one else for me to talk to..."

He nodded and said, "I see... Well, we can talk more later- if you want- but right now you need to eat something. You feel like eating anything solid or something more like a milkshake?"

"A milkshake..."

"Do you like chocolate?"

"Mhmmm." I nodded.

"Alright, I'll be back soon. Merrick, Kick, and Hesh are right outside, in the living room. If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. They're bored out of their minds and would leap at the chance to do anything useful." He grinned, standing up and heading for the door.

"Okay..."

He stopped for a moment in the doorway, seeming to think.

"What is it?" I asked curiously, trying not to grimace as my ribs protested.

"I feel like I forgot to do something... OH! Do you want pain meds before I go? I'm sorry, I should've asked a while ago, but everything's been crazy..." He said, walking back over to my bed.

"Yeah... I'd appreciate that... My ribs don't like me anymore..." I said, attempting a laugh and immediately regretting it.

"I imagine not," Keegan laughed, filling a syringe with a clear liquid. "Three are broken and your chest and back are covered in bruises. But your breathing sounds much better than when you first got home, so that's a plus."

I hummed in agreement as he pushed the medicine into the IV port.

"Alright, you should feel better soon. Just out of curiosity, how did your back get all bruised up?"

I felt sick when I thought of getting shoved into lockers and walls all day. That wasn't fun... I really don't want to go back to school.

"I uhh... People kept shoving me into lockers and walls every day..."

There was a pause.

"Oh... Yeah, I guess that would do it. I'll be back soon, just rest and try not to move too much." He said, grabbing his keys and waving to me before leaving the room.

"Okay, bye..."

I sighed and looked around the room- which was basically the only thing I _could_ do. That very quickly got boring, so I thought about everything that had happened. ...That didn't help either- in fact, it made me feel like I was going to puke.

I ended up just laying there and focusing on my breathing, which- thankfully- wasn't painful anymore. After a while, I drifted back into the peaceful land of sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: Wow! That took forever... I had to stay up until 3:00 in the morning just to finish half of this. Anyways, please leave me some reviews and tell me what you thought! I love getting feedback and I'm open to ideas for the next chapter! :)**


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